


Lock the Door

by Cant_We_Just_Dance



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blowjobs, Cuddling, Enemies With Benefits, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Office Sex, Plot-Twist-ish, Unrequited Love, Vague Hair-Pulling Kink, enemies to fuckbuddies, mention of handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:33:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_We_Just_Dance/pseuds/Cant_We_Just_Dance
Summary: It begins and ends with a locked door.If they weren't supposed to be doing this, then why did it feel so good?





	Lock the Door

It happened again. It always happens again and again and again. The world retells the same story so often that the word ‘again’ begins to lose all meaning between one’s lips, struggling to form in the air. More than anything, Thomas wishes that it would end the way he wants it to. He wants it to end with his arms wrapped around the man’s body, wracked in joyful sobs. He wants it to end with roses and kisses and the thousands of sunsets they’ll get to watch together.

The ending is always the same, always just as fake, always so shattered instead of broken.

Beginnings are the same, too, though they are able to take many forms.

“Shut up,” Was how it truly began, if one was to ignore the years of calculating stares, casual insults, and competition. That, however, is not where this story begins, so the decided beginning occurred like so: “Shut up, and lock the door.”

Thomas was holding Alexander against the door of his office, his back to the desk in a state of disarray. His hair was frizzy slightly, having lost its control earlier in the day. At that dark hour, with the empty office and no one left to judge, both of them had loosened their inhibitions, indulged in a drink or two; loosened or altogether abandoned their ties. Harsh artificial lighting shines through in specks onto Alexander’s face, like scattered-stars in a mockery of freckles. His chest is heaving beneath Thomas’s broad frame, struggling to catch his breath and close his lips from the all-encompassing kiss that he had been held in only moments ago.

“Do you want this?” Thomas asked, staring down into Alexander’s dark eyes, doing his best to ignore the silent plea that laid inside them just beneath the surface. It would take so little effort to pull him into another bruising kiss and close his eyes, let the rhythm fall into place as they took what he needed- but he couldn’t. For all he spoke of, Thomas Jefferson was hesitant to make first moves. The kissing itself had been a small miracle, the kind that is so easily obscured by the world, and by some grace of God he’d been able to pull Alexander into his office and press him against the door. But now, staring him in the eyes, he was given time to realize what he was doing. If they parted ways now, nothing would change other than a few awkward laughs in the days to follow. If they continued, however… “There’s no going back, after this. I don’t want to ruin anything for you- I don’t want to ruin anything- and that’s why I want this so much, so that I can keep this whole thing from being nothing more than-”

“Shut up and lock the door,” Alexander interjected, wrapping his arms behind Thomas’s neck and pulling him down for another kiss, one where Alexander did his best to hold control and failed miserably. Thomas turned the lock on the door knob and held Alexander by the waist, rolling his hips as he took control.

Thomas made quick work of undressing Alexander, discarding the button-down somewhere beside the desk and leaving the dark-colored dress pants near the fake potted plant that had been given to him as a gift by a well-meaning coworker. Only having taken off his shirt, Thomas had been the first to act, pressing Alexander against the side of the desk and dropping to his knees. 

It took no effort on his part to help the man to full hardness and was quick to wrap his mouth around it. Every time Alexander reached to grip his tightly coiled curls, Thomas would reroute it to the edge of the desk. His own hands were held tight against Alexander’s tan hips. His eyes were staring up intently at the man, wide and innocent as he could manage. Judging by the heady gasps escaping Alexander’s mouth, and the way his hips bucked up against the warm friction of Thomas’s mouth, he was enjoying the whole situation.

Not wanting to make his assumed success a falsehood, Thomas sank down to the base of Alexander’s length and tried to swallow around it. It took no small amount of effort to ignore the way his heart felt warm at being this close to Alexander, but he was able to pretend it had never happened. He repeated the motion a few more times, swirling his tongue as he did so, and it wasn’t more than a moment later that Alexander reached his completion, moaning brokenly as he threw his head back. His hips stuttered in pleasure, unsure of which way to pull, and his eyes were shut tightly to block out any input other than the all-encompassing pleasure.

In the future, they wouldn’t be as careful as they were that first time, with those lingering specks of hesitance in their motions; the fear hiding in the corners of their eyes. With time, it became easier for both of them. Alexander became accustomed to being held tightly against hard surfaces, and Thomas got used to Alexander insistence to pull his hair (and even better at denying the shudders of pleasure that ran down his spine when such a thing occurred).

The need for secrecy was born from Thomas’s anxieties and Alexander’s own need for privacy, so it fit the two of them rather nicely. During work hours, they remained as hostile as ever- the only exceptions being memorable times under a desk with a jaw aching afterward. It had been a long-standing understanding between the two of them that their homes were off-limits for their nights together. Frequently their bodies would search for relief together in empty closets and offices. On occasion, they would spend a business trip in the same hotel room and things would occur naturally, as one would expect.

Thomas was always the one to book their late-night hotel rooms, not wanting to rent a cheap room for the other man. He was worth more than that. Of course, that was not something he would ever admit aloud. Instead, he was intent on ignoring himself by indulging the part he needed to forget about, whether it be through leaving the fluffiest towel or last bit of coffee for the other man.

Nothing major changed in their actions, other than the nighttime couplings. It was only in the small things, in truth. Thomas would shoot a hesitant smile to Alexander when they saw each other in the hall. Thomas would remember to pick up Alexander’s order if he sent an intern on an office coffee run, or not hand the man sugar packets and cream cups when Alexander preferred his caffeine undiluted. As a matter of fact, it was almost always Thomas to make the small motions toward something other than indifference toward the other. He didn’t particularly mind, in the silent moments he realized it, so there was no point in stopping or asking questions- not when they were as informal with their arrangement as they were.

Somehow, though, Thomas had felt the urge to invite Alexander over to his home, under the premise of working together on a late night when the office would be closed. The way he asked was over text messaging, for he knew that he would be unable to clearly pronounce the words he wanted to, were he to say them in person or over the phone. Alexander had accepted the invitation, which was no surprise to Thomas, though it did send a flutter through his chest- why, he didn’t know. He didn’t particularly want to know why, anyway, so he did his best to tuck it aside and swallow his pride. Such thing happened often when he was around Alexander.

They’d both downed a few glasses of the cheap wine Alexander brought, only dancing around the true nature of Thomas’s invitation when the hour was late and the stars hung high in the night sky. By that time, in their half-drunken states, the most they could manage was mostly-clothed handjobs on top of Thomas’s sheets. For some God-forsaken reason, Alexander’s touch in those dimly lit moments was electric. His hand seemed to work wonders, more so than ever before, but he did well not to dwell on it. The sound of alcohol-induced giggles filled the air, and were only interrupted by unstifled moans, a sound that neither of them were accustomed to making in each other’s presence.

It took no longer than a few short minutes afterwards for them to fall asleep, and when Thomas woke up, his arms were tucked tightly around Alexander’s smaller frame. The man’s face was pressed snug against his chest, which was bare, and as such, a source of warmth for Alexander. The early-morning sun coated their bodies in place of a blanket, and encouraged a lazy morning in the Sunday morning quiet. They’d never fallen asleep together, and it was most likely expected of Thomas to pull away, to wake Alexander, and to tell him how to get to the shower. 

But Alexander was asleep. His breathing was even and soft, and his body only moved with each breath, not the familiar erratic breaths and restlessness that came with awakening. No one was here to watch them. If Alexander were to awaken, he could just pretend to be sleeping. So why not just lay there?

“You’re so perfect like this…” Thomas murmured, holding Alexander the slightest bit closer and sighing at the familiar scent of hair, like milk and honey. “I wish I could see you asleep in my arms more often. It’s hard to let you go, most nights, but it’s okay. I mean, I know you don’t want what I want, and that’s alright. I’m not supposed to love you, but I do. I don’t talk about it, not even in my head. Time doesn’t count, here, though. It’s Sunday morning, and you’re asleep, and this could last a small forever. Not a big forever, just a little bit of one.

“I know it’s not supposed to be like this, and we don’t even talk about it, but it’s what I want. You don’t have to want it, too, I just… It’s nice to be able to say it out loud. I love you, Alex.”

“Thomas?” Alexander said softly, causing the man in question to freeze. When had Alexander awoken? Had he heard the whole thing, or only the last small bit, which was arguably just as bad as the rest of it? But… the way Alexander had said his name, soft and quiet like a prayer, made his heart flutter. This was just like in all those poorly-written romance novels, where the presumed sleeping person confessed their mutual love. Alexander would pull away, with a look of quiet shock on his face, just as he was doing in that very moment, and shyly admit that he loved Thomas in return.

“...Alex?” Thomas asked softly in response, eyes wide with hopefulness as he reached out to grasp the man’s shaking hand. “What is it?”

“I… I… I don’t want this. I think I should leave. I'll lock the door on my way out."


End file.
